Wasteland Dangers
by Khayla
Summary: What started out as a simple trip turns to disaster when Aragorn and Legolas are captured by orcs. But these orcs are part of a bigger plan. And now it is not only their lives that rest in the balance, but the faith of all the elven relms of Middle-Earth.
1. Problems Arise

A/N This is my first attempt at a Lord of the Rings fic, and to be honest, I'm kind of proud of it! It's one of the best ideas I've had so far, and even though it's still kind of rough, I think I can get something out of it. Anyway, thanks for reading it, and hopefully you'll like it! Review when you're done and let me know!  
  
Also, just a little quick note on the location of the story: the wastelands that are referred to are just, well, wastelands, that I made up, so I guess you could say this story is slightly AU. Anyway, they're located north-east of Mirkwood and are pretty much uninhabited.  
  
Disclaimer I don't own anything, ok?! All the characters(so far) belong to the great and mighty Tolkien! Yay Tolkien! Hehe....ok, I'm gonna shut up now and let you read, I'm sure you're very tired of me by now...ok, going now....bye...enjoy....  
  
"I doubt this is a good idea, Estel."  
  
"Do not worry so much, mellon nin, it is perfectly safe."  
  
"Safe?!" Legolas said, coming as close to yelling as he ever got. "Estel, let me remind you that the simple slip of a pebble could send us both toppling down to our deaths."  
  
"You're exaggerating. First of all, a lone pebble could do nothing to make us fall, and second of all, we are not so high up that a slip would kill us."  
  
Aragorn heard a snort coming from above him. He knew it would be futile to try to argue his way out of this one, so he simply kept his mouth shut.  
  
In fact, Legolas had a good point. They were clinging to a cliff wall, nearly one hundred and fifty feet up in the air, trying to make their way down without having to throw themselves into the white river that snaked around below them. Though he had only been trying to preserve his pride, Aragorn knew that a fall at this point would not only kill them but render their remains nearly inrecognizable.  
  
"Can I take this time to point out that this expedition of yours is completely worthless," Legolas cut in, his voice sounding muffled as he spoke down to Aragorn, interrupting his thoughts. "We have been running around, in and out of these damned crevices for nearly two weeks now, and I have yet to see any vegetation that extends beyond shrubs and bushes, let alone that precious plant of yours." The elf prince was apparently starting to get more than a little frustrated, and Aragorn honestly could not blame him, as he himself was starting to get bored of the jagged crevices and rough cliffs.  
  
They had been traveling around the wastelands for around two weeks, searching futilely for a plant Lord Elrond had sent them to find. Actually, he had sent Aragorn out to find it, who in turn had brought his friend to keep him company. Mirkwood simply happened to be on his way, and he thought they could have some fun, at the same time completing Elrond's assignment.  
  
However, the trip had turned out to be nothing close to fun. It happened that several groups of leaderless orcs and goblins dwelt deep inside the many caves and crannies that made up the wastelands, and they had run into many during the first few days, often barely escaping capture or death. During one of those attacks, they had lost one of the horses, along with half their provisions, and since vegetation and game was scarce in these parts, they would soon run out of both water and food.  
  
Also, the lost horse had run away with the only map of the wastelands they owned. As undetailed as the map was, it was better than nothing, and now that's exactly what they had. In consequence, they had been stumbling around blindly for the better part of the last two weeks.  
  
It also didnt help that the scraggly vegetation and infested caves provided no shelter from either the scorching sun or the frequent, short-lived torrential downfalls.  
  
So Legolas' irritable mood was not without cause.  
  
They continued their slow descent down the cliff, careful not to look down or grab an unstable hand-hold. They had only traveled down a few more feet when Aragorn stopped abruptly, causing Legolas, who was moving a bit faster than he ought to, to set his foot on the top of his head. Aragorn nearly lost his hold on a scraggly branch sticking out of the cliff.  
  
Aragorn cursed loudly, realizing just how short his temper had become in the last few days. Legolas looked down at him indignantly.  
  
"Don't be so harsh, this was your own fault. What are you doing, stopping like that? Don't you think we've spent enough time up here already, or were you just stopping for a little sightseeing?" he asked sarcastically.  
  
"No," Aragorn snapped back. "I'm stuck. My belt caught in a branch."  
  
Legolas sighed loudly. "Great. I'll get comfortable then, take your time," he replied grumpily.  
  
"I am not laughing," Aragorn said through gritted teeth in response to Legolas' poor idea of a joke.  
  
He was struggling to get his belt loose with one hand, trying to keep his grip on the branch from slipping and keeping his feet wedged securely in the cliff.  
  
Just to give himself the extra will to hold on, he cast a glance over his shoulder and saw the river meandering around below them, so far down that it looked like nothing more than a strip of white ribbon. Aragorn looked back up and his grip on the branch tightened even more. His fingers worked frantically to get his belt free and his sword bounced up and down on his hip, pulling the belt down and making it even harder for him to get it unstuck. Legolas' impatient muttering was pinching his last nerve.  
  
"Will you quit whining?!" he snapped up at him, letting go of his belt.  
  
Unluckily enough, the cliff chose that precise moment to let the belt go. The newly reapplied weight and Aragorn's fumbling combined to pull the knot in the belt loose. The sword's weight did the rest. Belt, sword, throwing dagger, and herb pouch all went tumbling down the cliff, landing on the riverbank in a little cloud of dust.  
  
Both Aragorn and Legolas had watched the belt plummet down the cliff. As it hit the ground, Legolas looked at Aragorn, an amused smile playing on his lips.  
  
"Well, congratulations Estel," he said. His bad mood seemed to have evaporated along with Aragorn's belt.  
  
"Shut up," Aragorn grumbled, starting to make his way down again. He could hear Legolas chuckling above him and tried very hard to ignore it and hold back a sharp retort.  
  
It took nearly an hour for them to reach the bottom. They got to a spot where there were no hand-holds or foot-holds and had to shift about twenty feet to the side before being able to go down further, only to have to shift back when they once again ran out of hand-holds. By the time they neared the bottom, their limbs were screaming for a pause and Aragorn's fingers were cramped and blistered from constantly having to grasp either rock or branch.  
  
When they finally reached the bottom, Aragorn hopped down onto the sandy river-shore, glad to finally have his feet on firm ground again.  
  
He was about to bend down to pick his belt and sword that laid next to his feet when he froze, eyes wide with surprise.  
  
"I am never listening to you ever again, Estel. Never," Legolas said as his feet touched the ground.  
  
He turned to face the river, another tease aimed for Aragorn already playing on his tongue. However, it was knocked back down his throat when his eyes met the arrow point aimed straight at his face. He gaze travelled up the arrow and ran straight into the ugly, snarling face of yet another orc. As soon as the initial shock had worn away, he noticed the nine other orcs and the nine other arrows pointed at his and his friend's heads and throats.  
  
Legolas cast a glance towards his friend, who stood just as still as him, his eyes darting around, looking for any way to escape, which Legolas had already done. Their eyes met and a wordless understanding passed between them.  
  
Legolas looked back towards the orcs as he waited for them to make the first move, a defiant look on his face, as if daring them to shoot. He knew they wouldn't. If their goal had been to kill the elf and human, they would have done so already. No, these orcs wanted them alive.  
  
Aragorn did the same as his friend and stared up at the snarling orc in front of his face. He tried his best to look bold and confident, but inside he was getting desperate.  
  
There were no ways to escape; the orcs were too many. Had they been held at sword-point, they might have stood a chance, even though his weapon did lay at his feet. But arrows are a bit different. Had they even tried to escape, it would have only taken a split second for them to find themselves flat on the ground with arrows embedded in their heads. And Legolas always wondered why he preferred his sword to a bow, he thought. Bows are scary.  
  
Suddenly, the orcs parted, so that half of them stood on Legolas' left, and the other half on Aragorn's right.  
  
For a second, the two friends were a little confused as to why the orcs had moved that way, but that question was soon made clear.  
  
An orc, quite a large one, even by orc standards, was walking towards them, making its way along between the two neat orc ranks. Legolas thought something about this whole scene seemed out of place, yet he couldn't really put his finger on it.  
  
The orc's leader roughly walked right up to their faces and gruffly sniffed at them, growling and baring his teeth when he had registered their smells. He then turned back around and walked up to another orc that stood back behind his bow-wielding kinsman. He merely grunted at him and walked away. The orc the leader had 'talked' to walked up to them and started pulling lengths of rope out of a pouch tied to his rough leather outfit.  
  
He first walked up to Aragorn and starting binding his wrists behind his back, shaking him none too gently. Aragorn couldn't suppress the urge to struggle a little as the orc's filthy hands grabbed his wrists. In response to his wriggling, the orc painfully kicked him in the back of the knees and he promptly fell to the ground. The orc grabbed the back of his tunic and pulled him back up, shaking him and grunting, making sure he got the message. Aragorn glowered in response, but stopped wriggling. He might as well make this easy on himself until the opportunity came to escape, since it wasn't coming anytime soon. The other orcs still had their bows pointed straight at him and Legolas, standing amazingly still.  
  
After Aragorn's wrists had been tightly bound, the orc moved towards the elf. Knowing it was futile to fight his way out of it, Legolas simply stood still as the rough hands ripped his bow, quiver, and knives off his back. After tossing the little bundle on the ground next to Aragorn's discarded belt, he tied up the elf's hands just as he had Aragorn's.  
  
The beast then picked up the weapons and, with a nod towards the archers, left to follow the orc leader.  
  
Right after the 'lieutenant' orc had gotten out of the way, four of the archers strapped their bows to their backs, neatly grabbed their captives by the shoulders, and started pushing them along after the two leading orcs.  
  
Legolas and Aragorn were able to exchange looks of mixed confusion before their captors forced them into a single file.  
  
These orcs were acting quite strangely. Never before had either the elf or the human seen orcs act in such an orderly manner and behave quite so strictly, following orders without complaints. Disobediance and disorderliness had always been a weak spot in the orcs and often presented holes for escape. However, without such openings, neither elf nor human could see a way to escape, especially if the bow-orcs kept their arrows pointed at them as they did even now. So far, this seemed like one battle that wouldn't be so easily won.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N Well, there it was, the first chapter! Woohoo! Ok, so now that you're done reading, click that little bluish button and review to let me know how it was!!!! Please!!!! Also, I apologize for any spelling errors. I still havnt installed spell-check on my computer, and I'm too lazy and impatient to get it beta'd by someone....sorry....


	2. Underground Happenings

A/N Yay, I got reviews!!! And no flames! Yay!! Anyway, this chapter got written a lot faster than I had planned(even though it is really short) because I flew home yesterday and I had nothing better to do.... so, without further blabbings, here it chapter two!!!!  
  
DisclaimerI own nothing......except one thing....I own that character without a name that you'll meet(in the general sense) in the chapter....but besides that, I own nothing!  
  
For nearly three hours, Aragorn and Legolas were pushed and shoved along a faded path that snaked around the wasteland. The group went along in complete silence, except for the occasional grunted orders of the orc leader.  
  
As they made their way up a small hill, Aragorn thought about stopping in his tracks in sitting down in this very spot. His limbs, which had aleady been aching from the hour-long climb down the cliff wall, were screaming in agony and every step sent a jolt of pain up his sore legs. But he knew doing so would only cause him yet more discomfort, if not downright pain, when the orcs would kick him back up to his feet, so he just kept on walking, keeping his eyes fixed on the slowly unrolling ground below him, his breath coming in short spurts.  
  
Legolas could clearly see his friend's discomfort, and though he was better off than the human, he himself was becoming quite sore. He hope they would soon reach wherever they were heading, or his friend would drop down out of pure exhaustion.  
  
When they reached the top of the hill, Aragorn could not hold back a gasp. Below them, down on the other side of the hill, was a large stone fortress, its tall walls rising up to thirty feet into the air. The fort seemed to be made up of several sections, including was looked like a soldiers' barrack, a prison, and a king's hall, though he doubted the wastelands were governed by anything more than stranded orcs and weak goblins. This definetly was not on the map, Aragorn thought, still gaping at the castle that had popped out of nowhere.  
  
A hard shove that nearly made him lose his balance pulled Aragorn out of his thoughts. The orc shoved him again, not quite as hard this time, urging him to start moving. Aragorn look sideways at Legolas, whose face bore an expression of utter surprise, similar to the one that must be resting on his own features.  
  
They quickly made their way down the hill and approached the large solid oak doors that seperated them from the inside of the fortress. The orc leader unhooked a large horn from his belt and blew two short, sharp blasts. Almost instantly, the doors slowly rolled open, revealing the empty courtyard inside.  
  
The orcs pushed the two friends inside and headed for a door that lead to what Aragorn had believed to be a prison. All but two of the bow-wielding orcs remained outside, while the leader and his lieutenant still walked purposely ahead of the two friends.  
  
Aragorn's suspicions of the building's uses were proved to be correcr. Legolas and Aragorn were led through a serious of damp, dark passages, passins empty cells and doors that led of to other part of the building. They went down several sets of staircases, burying themselves deeper and deeper into the ground.  
  
Aragorn could almost feel his friend growing more and more nervous as they made their way down more bottomless passages. The elf had always cherished open space, and being trapped between walls of earth this way made him very uneasy.  
  
Finally, after several minutes of descending, the ground leveled off. They turned the corner to find themselves into an open room. Legolas's eyes widened at the sight and he couldnt suppress a quiet gasp.  
  
In the center of the room, a tall wooden post had been implanted into the packed-earth floor, worn leather strips attached to it. And tied to the post was an elf.  
  
An elf maiden to be more precise. Her hands were tied to the post by the leather strips and her cheek was pressed hard against the hard wood. Her eyes were tightly shut and her smooth features were crinkled up in pain. The back of her tunic had been torn to shreds and was held together by only a few remaining strips of clothes, revealed her pale, scarred back.  
  
Behind her stood yet another orcs, this one larger than any mere orc Legolas had ever seen. His head nearly brushed up against the ceiling and he was as wide as three men. He held in one hand a long, leather whip, and in the other a crude, black-bladed knife.  
  
Under Legolas's horrified gaze, the montrous orc brought the whip down on the elf's back. She winced slightly, but her lips remained tightly shut. After two more hits, the orc put his arm down and drew the knife up. His arm moved forwards and the knife's point pricked the elf's back. A single drop of blood rolled downwards overthe scared skin, leaving a red trail behind. The orc quickly made three vertical slashes along her back, leaving crimson trails of blood, a constrast against the pale color of her skin. And still the elf mouth remained close and she utter no sound.  
  
The orc carelessly tossed the knife onto the ground and once again raised the whip. It cracked several times more against the elf's back before the pain became too much. As the whip cracked loudly one more time, the elf's pinched lips part and a piercing, pain filled cry filled the room. Legolas felt as if the scream would tear his heart apart and he itched to go to the maiden to comfort her, but the orc's firm grip on his shoulder prevented him from doing so. His eyes burned with fury towards the orc, that vile creature that inflicted pain for the pure pleasure of it.  
  
The orc snarled in approvement, apparently content with a job well done, and put down the whip.  
  
The lady was breathing hard, pressing herself against the wooden post, trying to hold herself upright. Her eyes fluttered open as the orc started untying her hands, and Legolas's heart broke once again at the darkness that filled her eyes.  
  
Her deep green orbs were clouded in shadows of grief, pain, and despair. Her eyes darted around the room weakly, as if looking for an escape route she knew would not be there. Her gaze met Legolas's as she noticed for the first time that she was no longer alone in the room. Her haunted eyes bore deep into his as she silently pleaded for help.  
  
Legolas could only watch helplessly as the leather ties were undone and her legs crumpled beneath the newly reapllied weight. The orc caught her arm roughly before she hit the ground and jerkily pulled her back up. He then half-dragged, half-carried her out of the room, into the darkness of yet another passageway.  
  
Legolas, still stunned from what he had seen, looked to his friend and saw the same horrified look on Estel's face as he wore on his. His eyes met Legolas's and he shook his head in a nearly apologetic manner.  
  
Legolas's gaze drifted towards the orcs that guarded them, and he was both surprised and disgusted to see them snarling in a manner that would on any other being have been a smile. They had purposely made the elf and human witness the scene, as if warning them of their own fates, and now they were rejoicing in their reactions.  
  
Anger welled up inside Legolas's chest. He had always been one to be protective of his people, both from Mirkwood and the entire elf race alike, and seeing one of his own being treated like they had treated the fair lady was more than he could handle. His recently unbound hands (their bonds had been cut when they had entered the fortress) clenched at his sides as fury boiled up, and without thinking, he turned to the nearest orc and swung his fist at the ugly, snarling face.  
  
Legolas's hand collided with the orc's jaw, sending the beast head crashing into the wall behind him and bruising Legolas's knuckles. He knew his punches would do nothing to permanently harm the orc, but his rage was overriding his common sense, and all he could think of in his wrath was inflicting as much damage as he could to this despicable beast.  
  
However, before Legolas's fist could once again collide with the orc's thick skull, a pain-filled cry resounding behind him made him turn around.  
  
Aragorn lay on the his hands and knees, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath. The leading orc stood firmly behind him, his sword-tip pointed at the base of Aragorn skull.  
  
Legolas froze, worry over his friend's well-being overtaking his desire to pound the orc to the ground.  
  
The orc that held Aragorn at sword-point grunted at one of the bowmen, who swiftly went to grab a length of rope that hung from the wall near the wooden post. He then came back towards the elf, and roughly tied his hands behind his back yet again.  
  
Aragorn was pulled up to his feet and his hands were tied as well. The two friends were brusquely pushed into another tunnel opening, somewhat even roughlier than before.  
  
As Legolas was pushed along the corridors, one desperate thought race around in his mind. There would be no way to escape this time. These orcs were different. By showing them the beating of the elf maiden and attacking Estel, they had done what no orc had ever done before. They attacked neither the body nor the mind. They attacked the heart.  
  
TBC  
  
A/N Review review review!!!! I love reviews, reviews make me happy and happy writers write faster....unless they're the depressive 'everybody-dies- cuz-the-world-hates-me' type of writer.... then bring on the misery...but it just so happens that I'm not a depressive writers, so make me happy and send me reviews!!!!! Oh and sorry it was so short, but if you review ill make the next one longer....hehe....and that my friend, is bribe!  
  
Special thanks to Partheon for the review, your advice really helped. I didnt really apply it to this chapter since it was already written when I read your review, but I'll keep what you said in mind for the next chapter. Though what you said about not changing points of views does make a lot of sense, that's one thing I probably wont be changing, though I'll try to be less eratic about it. I just get kinda bored using the same point of view all the time, and I cant help it. Sorry. Anyway, thanks again for the advice!  
  
Also, just a quick question you might want to answer in your review: which name do you prefer between Adariel and Lariel? Three guesses whose name that would be....hehe 


	3. Adariel

_**A/N Ok, sorry for the extra long delay!! I don't think I've ever waited that long to update anything....well almost. Anyway, its just that when I got the 'inspiration' for this chapter, I was at a friend's house and I had no computer, so I wrote it down on paper and ended up writing the entire time I was there (5 days, I think), so I got this chapter done and ½ chapter 4,but I usually write my stuff straight onto the computer without passing thru the paper phase, so when I got back home, I had to type up all of it, which I think is really boring, cuz I hate writing the same thing over again...so that took longer than it should have...but no worries, I'm back now, though my updates will probably be about a week apart now because I have developed a new obsession: LiveJournal RPGs! I'm George in a Harry Potter RPG and take my role to heart, so I spent quite a bit (too much according to my mom) of time doing that, and I believe I've blabbed enough, so I'll let u go onwards with the story!**_

_**Disclaimer don't own, blah blah blah...**_

After leaving the room where they had seen the other elf, Legolas and Aragorn were lead through a series of passages, twisting back and forth, passing in front of doors that were so similar, they might have been passing the same ones each time. Time passed as a blur for Legolas, who was still trapped inside his own thoughts.

Their situation was getting worse and worse by the second. They had no idea where they were, and even if he and Estel did find a way to escape the orcs, which seemed past impossible, there would be no way to find their way back out of the winding passages. And now with the sight of the elven maiden still lingering in his mind, it seemed that they would be stuck in this hole for eternity.

So entranced was he in his thoughts that Legolas barely noticed when the push on his back stopped and he, Aragorn, and their little entourage halted before yet another solid wood door. The orc leader pulled a large, tarnished iron key out of his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole. The door slowly creaked open, and before either Legolas or Aragorn could get a good look inside, they were both pushed inside the room and the door slammed loudly behind them.

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged looks from their position on the hard dirt floor. At least they'd stopped moving. They both got up slowly, their gaze quickly making their way around the room.

It was small, square, and bare. Nothing more. A light orange light emanated from a small torch hung on the far right wall, casting the corners in eary, flickering shadows.

The lighting was so poor that it took a few moments for even Legolas to notice the darker shadows loitering in the corner. Legolas squinted at the corner, his keen elven eyes trying to make out the dark shape. He nearly gasped in surprise when he recognized the figure.

A small sudden spark in the flame provided enough light for Aragorn to recognize the person as well. Light flew quickly across the fair features of the elf maiden then had seen tied up in the larger chamber upon entering the underground prison and her emerald eyes caught the glare of the spark and gleamed eerily for a short moment.

She was crouched in the corner, cradled into a small ball, making it even harder to see her. A tattered and ripped traveling cloak was draped across her shoulders, hiding the slash marks and blood trails Legolas knew would be covering her back.

She was looking up at them from above her knees and was staring intently back and forth between the two friends, whom were both returning the stare.

After a few moments of silence, she slowly cocked her head to one side. "Are you real?" she asked. Her voice was a bit rough as if it hadn't been used in a long time, yet both Legolas and Aragorn could still hear what were the remains of a once-melodic voice.

Aragorn's eyes widened slightly, surprised by the strange question. "Of course," he responded, rather more roughly than he had ought to.

The lady sighed and leaned her head back against the stone wall, closing her eyes.

"That's what they all said. But it's never true." She looked back up at Legolas, whose heart lurched yet again at the sight of her haunted green eyes. The elf shook her head sadly and smiled weakly. "I never know what's real anymore."

Legolas could feel Aragorn beginning to get a little wary of the lady and he looked sideways at his friend, his gaze holding a mix of curiosity and hesitancy.

The elf obviously noticed the look because she cocked her head at Aragorn again and asked, a bit of amusement playing of her words, "Are you afraid of me, little adan?"

Aragorn quickly blurted out. "No." Legolas nearly laughed at the human's quickliness at conserving his self-esteem. Though he would never admit it, strangers usually scared Aragorn more than facing death in battle ever did.

The elf lady looked at them thoughtfully.

"They usually are not afraid either."

She was silent after that and contented herself in staring at the two beings that still stood in front of the door. The three of them watched either other silently while moments passed slowly by.

Legolas couldn't help but examine the elf more carefully as she sat huddled in the corner. Even in the dim light, he could see the extent of her beauty. She looked as flawless as all elves did, save for a few bruises and cuts that nicked her face. Her auburn hair was unbound and toppled down across her shoulders in wild, uncared-for waves, framing her face and casting her already-darkened eyes in shadow. Yet as fair and beautiful as she was, Legolas noticed what was missing.

The same light that was absent in her eyes was missing in her entire being, as well. The usual glow that lit up the elven kind had been turned off, snuffed out along with the passion for life and all things living that usually inhabited elves. Pity overwhelmed Legolas as he imagined what his own existence might result in did he lose his own love for life.

Aragorn's voice was the first to break the silence.

"Why have we been brought here?" he asked, his voice a little softer now that he had had the time to contain himself.

The lady's gaze turned towards him. "I should not even bother telling you. You will find out when you meet him," she said, and a faint hint of hate and disgust tainted her voice. "He'll tell you everything. That is if you are real. If you are not, then it does not really matter, does it?" she finished, the irony of her situation not lost upon her.

Aragorn frowned. "Who is he?"

"The master," the lady said, her voice growing softer as if she feared being overheard. "When you see him, he will tell you everything. His plan. How things will be once it is completed. He will tell you not so you know, but just so you can hold on to the hope than you should be able to escape and reveal his plan and put a stop to it. Just so you stay hopeful long enough to realize that there really is no hope. Just so that when you start to despair, the fall will be so great it will break you. Because at one point you will realize that there is no hope, no way to escape what will come to pass. And you know that no matter what, they will win. You will know soon." As she was talking, the lady's voice had gotten quieter and quieter, to the point where Aragorn had to strain his ears to make out what she was saying, and her eyes had glazed over so it seemed that as she could see now was the cause of her despair, unrolling before her.

"What is this plan you speak of?" Aragorn asked softly.

The lady's eyes focused again as Aragorn's voice brought her back to reality. "You will find out soon enough," she repeated. "In the meantime, you had better hope this is a hallucination, or you will be suffering from these and many other things soon as well."

"What kind of things?" Legolas asked, suddenly frightened. If what the orcs did was enough to extinguish the glow of an elf and send her toppling into despair, then he feared what they would do to Estel, who was, after all, only human.

The lady shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. "Anything. Poisons, whips, fists, swords, daggers, arrows. Whatever it takes to keep you quiet. They have had plenty of times to experiment in their methods."

"How much time? How long have you been trapped here?" Aragorn asked.

The elf shook her head and a few more strands of dark hair fell in front of her emerald eyes.

"I lost track. A century, maybe two. A thousand years could pass and I would not know it. Time passes unchecked when there is neither moon nor stars nor sun to see its progress."

Aragorn almost gasped. Being of Numenorian decent, he had a longer lifespan than most humans did, but he knew he would certainly perish if they were to be trapped here for another century.

Before any of them could say anything more, the door burst open, knocking Aragorn, who was still standing in front of it, in the back of the head. He stumbled a little and rubbed the forming lump, but remained silent.

The orc leader Legolas and Aragorn had previously encountered stood in the door frame, his wide bulk blocking all outside light out. He walked in, followed closely by two 'body-guard' orcs, whose claw-like hands gripped swords at their hips.

The leader barely acknowledged Legolas and Aragorn and walked straight up to the elf, who still huddled in the corner. Upon the orcs' arrival, the lady's face had turned to stone, a solid mask of challenging defiance, yet her eyes told of the acceptance she felt towards whatever was coming.

"Up," the orc grunted, distorting the word to the point where it was almost unrecognizable.

The elf slowly pulled herself to her feet, leaning against the wall for support, and Legolas noticed the slight tremors that shook her weak frame. She winced slightly as her back pressed against the stone, but her face remained set and she never looked away from the orc's glare.

"The master send me to ask you whether you have learned your lesson against insolence," the orc grunted, his face merely inches from the lady's.

"I don't know. If the master trusts your intelligence enough to send you on such important tasks such as getting answers from the petty prisoner, then shouldn't you be able to figure that out yourself?" she answered, sarcasm thick in her voice.

No sooner had these words left her tongue than a large buckled hand made contact with her cheek. Legolas and Aragorn both winced as the force of the blow send the lady's head banging into the wall behind her and the slap's sound echoed around the small room.

The elf's eyes prickled with tears from the impact as she slowly looked back up at the orc to fix his gaze again. Her cheek burned bright red where the orc had hit her and there were three small, yet deep, scratches from the buckled gloves. She locked her eyes on his face, ignoring the burning pain that numbed her face.

Legolas couldn't help but be amazed at the lady's force of will, and the sight of her fierce glare, combined with the lingering fear that the orcs would attack his friend again was barely enough to keep his temper down.

The orc grunted at the lady's vicious glare. "I see you have not yet learned your lesson. The master will not be pleased with this and you will suffer the consequences." The orc smiled crookedly in delight, and it took all the strength he had to keep Legolas from not jumping at his throat again and slicing it with his own knife. The orc grunted to his fellow kinsmen and loudly left the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

For a few moments, no one moved. The elf was obviously furious, and she breathed heavily, trying to calm herself down.

She was the first to break the silence. "At least I know you are real."

Both Aragorn and Legolas stayed silent. "I am Adariel. I suppose I should tell you, now that I know you will be staying. Adariel of the Golden Woods."

Both Aragorn and Legolas bowed their heads slightly and introduced themselves, softly, as if to not break the silence left after the orcs had gone.

"Are you-?" Aragorn started, taking a step towards Adariel to make sure she was alright, hand outstretched, offering support. To his surprise, however, the lady moved out the corner and away from his approach, ungluing herself from the wall, flinching slightly.

Aragorn stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing her reaction and backed off a little. He hadn't meant his approach to be seen as a threat, yet he supposed if he had been trapped in an underground and tortured for century, with nothing more than murderous orcs for company, he might possibly be a little twitchy, too.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"he began, but he was interrupted when Adariel shook her head, weakly waving a hand for him to stop.

"No. No, I am sorry. I ... old habits die hard," she said with a small apologetic smile.

Legolas moved forward hesitantly to stand next to his friend.

"Are you alright?" he repeated, softly.

The lady nodded. "Yes. Yes, I just..." She backed up, stumbling back towards the wall. A pale, shaky hand went up to her hand, as if trying to hold it steady. "I just need to..."

She blinked quickly, trying to clear her rapidly obscuring vision.

Legolas caught her before she hit the ground, and the last thing her cloudy mind remembered was being lowered down to the ground, and then Adariel knew no more

_**A/N Woohoo! I finally got it all typed up. Ok, I guess this is where you'll start to think that this is just yet another Legomance, but please read on, cuz it's not. It's not an Aragomance, either. In fact, so far, unless I completely change my mind or go crazy, it wont even be a -mance! Anyway, hoped you liked Adariel, she's one of my fave original characters, so hopefully you'll like her too! Now review review review!**_


	4. Changed Path

_A/N-- Ok. Obvious apologies are due. This update has most definitely been the slowest one yet, and I'm so sorry for making you wait so long. Thanks to those who sent me both friendly and not-so-friendly reminders, those kind of helped get things jumpstarted again. I honestly didn't think I would go out of business for such a long period of time, but I did. Mostly because of writer's block, but also because of laziness and other distractions. I sincerely hope that I wont ever have to keep a story on hold for that long again, because that was really no fun. But now I actually have something established, so it might be moving a bit faster. I cant promise anything, but I'll try to make updates at least once every two weeks. Again, sorry for keeping you waiting, I hope this will make up for it. Anyway, I'm not too confident about this first bit. I just thought it'd be a bit helpful to jump back there a bit, and I did, but it didn't turn out like I wish it had. Well, onwards to the story, then, I'll let you see for yourself._

_Disclaimer-- I don't own anything other than Adariel. The almighty J.R.R. Tolkien owns everything else. He rocks so hard.

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A soft breeze blew across Lord Elrond's face as he stood upon the balcony outside his room. He inhaled the clean, fresh air of Rivendell, a faint hint of pine smell tickling his nose as the elf lord looked into the distance, enjoying the beautiful, calm sight of the valley. The sun was setting and it cast an orangish glow on the sparkling waterfalls and rooftops of the buildings below.

His gaze traveled across the path that lead outside the valley, and he quickly did a double-take, not sure whether his eyes had seen the hint of movement or whether it was just shadows playing across the ground. He frowned slightly, digging through the shade to discern what the movement had been. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he recognized the two horses galloping up the path, out of the shadows of the pines.

Elledan and Elrohir were riding up the small cliff-edged path at lightning speed, and even though ideas were already popping up in his head, the elf lord was too far away to see whether one of them was injured. Lord Elrond rolled his eyes and started out of his room towards the entrance to the house. Which one is on the brink of death this time, he mused ironically.

Lord Elrond burst outside in a blast of fresh air, and calmly walked up the pathway to the end of the actual road. He waited as his sons made their way towards him, and his brow furrowed slightly when he saw that neither seemed to be hurt or dying. How odd, he thought. Why would they be rushing as if Sauron himself was on their tail, then?

The twins reached the Last Home in no time, and both dismounted their frenzied horses without even giving them time to stop. Both the horses automatically trotted off towards the stables as soon as their masters were off their back, heading for some well deserved food and rest.

Elledan and Elrohir ran up the last remaining steps to meet their father, who now stood straight and stiff upon the doorstep, already dreading the news his two eldest sons might be bringing.

"Father," Elledan said, with a small respectful nod of his head. "We apologize for barging in this way but this could not wait."

Both twins looked obviously flustered, if not downright alarmed. "What is it then?" Lord Elrond asked.

Elrohir moved forward a little, and Lord Elrond noticed for the first time that his fist was tightly clenched around something. Slowly, he held his hand palm up so his father could see what he had been holding.

The elf lord could barely hold a gasp when he saw the glint of light in his son's hand. The twisted silver, embedded with emeralds, shone against the paleness of Elrohir's palm, reverberating the sun's rays into thousands of small sparks. The ring of Barahir glowed with foreboding darkness, the snake eyes gleaming with a somber light.

"We found it at the bottom of a cliff in the wastelands," Elledan said softly, breaking Lord Elrond's trance. "The ground had been disturbed and showed signs of a struggle. And there were orc tracks," he added, his voice giving away the worry he prevented from showing on his face.

"How long ago was this?" Lord Elrond asked, eyes gleaming with anger resulting from fatherly anguish.

"Nearly two weeks," Elledan said. At his words, Lord Elrond spun on his heels in a flurry of swirling robes and walked swiftly back inside, heading for his quarters. Elledan and Elrohir exchanged worried glances before following their father inside.

"Father, we do not know for sure that anything has happened," Elrohir said, though he himself thought his words sounded false even as he spoke them.

"That is true, Father. We have no real proof that anything bad has come upon Estel and Legolas. The tracks could have been older than we thought them to be, and the ring's location might be a simple coincidence," Elledan joined in, trying to support his brother even though they both knew there would be no way of reassuring their father.

The elf lord rounded down on his sons, his eyes burning. "That ring was Aragorn's only heritage from his father. He has guarded it with his life since it was given to him, and I can see no other reason why he would have lost it than if something had gone wrong in the wastelands." Elledan and Elrohir looked at each other again, frowning.

"Father, even if something has happened to them, there is nothing we can do for them," Elrohir said, choosing to appeal to logic. "They have gotten themselves in trouble before, and if anyone can overcome the unknown dangers of the deserts, they can. We do not know for sure that anything has happened, and even if something has, it does not forcefully condemn them."

Lord Elrond stayed quiet, pacing across the room and casting occasional glances at his twin sons. Finally, he sighed and tiredly sat down in the arm chair next to the window.

"I suppose you are right. Both of you. Yet I cannot help but worry over where this will lead us. If something has indeed happened to your brother, I want you two out there looking for him. So that is where you will be," he said, his eyes fixed on his sons'.

Elrohir nodded. "Yes, Father."

With a last look to their father, the twins turned back around and walked out of Lord Elrond's quarters in unspoken agreement to head to their own rooms.

Though each knew of the slim chances of finding their brother and friend out in the wilderness of the wastelands, neither would willingly admit that facts to themselves, and much less to their father. All they could really do now was repack their things and head out once more, hoping against hope that somehow they would find a trace of their companions.

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Legolas wasn't sure what it was that pulled him back from his state of unconsciousness, though when he became aware of movement around him, he quickly jerked upright, his vision refocusing as he warrior's instincts took over. It took him a few moments to remember where he was, but his memory was quickly jogged when his eyes met the looming figure of a unusually large orc framed in the doorway, its outline flickering along with the torches outside.

Legolas cast a glance towards Aragorn, who was crouching on the floor, every muscle in his body tensed, propped as still as his gaze, which lay motionless on the orc at the door. Feeling his friend's eyes on him, he looked back briefly and nodded shortly, acknowledging his awareness.

Legolas quickly scanned the room for the elf maiden who, no doubt, had been woken as rudely as he had. He found her cradles in the corner of the room, her wavy hair casting eerie shadows across her face. Her glimmering green eyes were fixed upon the orc in the doorway, and though her hand trembled visibly upon her knees, her stare stayed steadily intense.

The orc smirked smartly as he looked upon the scene in the room, then stood aside from the door, only to be replaced by two of his smaller kinsman, who promptly walked to the corner where Adariel lay. Each one grabbed her by the arm and yanked her up to her feet. The elf winced slightly as the orcs' claws dug into her skin, and Legolas eyed the single drop of blood that dripped down her bared arm.

Two more orcs followed into the room, one going to Legolas, the other to Aragorn, both of whom had jumped to their feet the second the orcs had walked in.

The first set of orcs walked off towards the door, dragging the elf along with them. Just as she passed them, Adariel looked back at the elf and man, and the small hint of a hopeless smile flashed on her face before the unbroken mask of set determination slid back into place and her gaze turned back to the door and the unseen enemy beyond it.

As soon as they had passed through the door, the grip on Legolas's shoulder tightened and he was roughly pushed towards the door. The elf shrugged the beats off, casting hateful look in his direction, but the only response was a tightened grip and meaningless grunt.

The pair was pushed down the dimly lit hallway, and the only sound breaking the vibrating silence was their echoing footsteps and the clanging of the orcs' swords against their belts.

The hallway soon opened up into another room, and Legolas's heart leapt as he recognized the tall wooden post standing solidly in the middle of it, the roughened leather straps hanging off its end. He cast a searching look in the elf's direction, but was merely met with the same determinedly blank glare, still fixed towards the leading orc's back. One look at Aragorn showed him the same fear was sprouting inside his friend, and they silently nodded their understandings.

Adariel was led wordlessly to the pole at the center of room while Legolas and Aragorn were pinned hardly against the wall by their escorts.

The lady's arms were lifted roughly above her head and tied to the post and she acquiesced to it without any resistance, almost with acceptance. This time, however, she was placed so that her back pressed sharply against the pole and her body was stretched out against it. As the orc walked away smugly, her eyes closed and she rested her head back against the hard wood, her lips moving silently as if in prayer. For a brief moment, Legolas was flooded by the grief and fear that poured over her fair features, creasing her brow in anguish, quivering lines that told tales of pain and loss. Yet the wall was rebuilt almost as quickly as it had been torn down and she looked up once more, looking dead straight ahead of her, a determined spark shining in her emerald eyes.

The first larger orc walked back towards her, a short, crude bow clenched in his hand and a smirk on his face. He walked to the opposite side of the room so that his back was facing Aragorn and Legolas.

"Ready, elf?" he said to the lady's face, spitting the words out with all the disgust he could muster.

The elf's face was hidden behind the beast's broad back, yet both friends could clearly imagine the hatefully indifferent look on her face.

"Must you truly bother yourself with asking this question every time?" Her voice sounded rather weak, yet full of conviction and hatred.

An equally hateful grunt emanated from the orc, and he swiftly walked back from her, a bitter snarl on his lips. He whipped around to face her again once he had stretched a distance of about 10 feet between them. His gloved hand reached into the leather quiver that hug by his hip, and he pulled out a long, black arrow, its end crowned in crooked crow feathers. Without taking his eyes off the elf, he slowly uncorked a small vial that hung by the quiver, and dipped the sharp arrow tip inside it.

When he pulled it out, the end was dripping a thick black substance, and the orc's smirk grew as an unwanted flicker of fear flashed across the lady's face.

Legolas's gaze darted quickly between the elf and the orc, trying to follow their wordless communication. The liquid was obviously a poison of some sort that the lady clearly recognized, and feared. Legolas had witnessed her face a great many fearful things during the short time he had been in her presence, and he had yet come to see that uncontrollable fear in her eyes.

His jaw clenched in anger and the orc's grip on his arm tightened as he involuntarily lurched forward in an attempted motion that, had it been completed, would have most likely ended with a orc carcass. Whatever the poison's effects were was not something he wanted to see ­­.

A struggle similar to Legolas's was being delivered by Aragorn, whose normally passive gray eyes shone in fury towards the massive orc.

In response to the two friend's opposition, the orc simply raised his bow, his thick fingers gripping the hard wood tightly. He slowly cocked an arrow, still not taking his eyes of the elf in front of him. The two bystanders continued to struggle against their captors, hopelessly trying to pull away from their grips as they watched the orc pull back the creaking string.

The bow's indignant creaks and screeches echoed dully around the room, silencing each of its inhabitants. A low, brief whimper broke past the elf's lips and her emerald eyes shone tearfully, her body involuntarily inching back as much as it could within its bonds.

A deafening silence filled the room, everyone's eyes fixed unblinkingly on the steady arrow tip. With the smirk still intact upon his twisted face, the orc pulled the string back another inch, letting a last creak reverberate around the room.

When Legolas had almost resorted himself to think that the orc would hold his position for eternity, he moved.

In less than a moment, the arrow was sent flying through the room, its end feathers whistling sharply. Legolas stared in horror as it pierced through the air and his mind realized what had happened. Everything around him was happening as if in slow motion as he came to terms with the changes that had been made.

After what seemed like an enormously long time for an arrow's flight, it finally came to a stop.

A clear scream rang out, filled with surprise and anger. A strange heaviness hung over the room, and Legolas looked upon the scene as if through a sort of dream-like veil.

However, it couldn't have been more real. Shock still holding its grasp over his body, Legolas watched helplessly as Aragorn sank slowly to his knees, a black tuff of tattered feathers protruding from his stomach.

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_A/N-- Ooh, almost-cliffie-ish ending. Would you look at that. It's not that bad, though…Anyway, reviews are much appreciated, I write faster when I get feedback. So review! Review, review, review!_


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